


time can break your heart

by evillittlethings



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Sharing a Bed, Sometimes a girl just needs a good cry in the arms of a loving Croatian tree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evillittlethings/pseuds/evillittlethings
Summary: It's their first night back since 1888 and Lucy can't sleep.





	time can break your heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton

It was the early hours of the morning and the bunker was silent except for the drone of the refrigerator. A couple of long hours had passed since Future!Lucy had coaxed a half-asleep, yet fiercely stubborn, Jiya into bed. She had fought against her, determined to find the answer they were searching for – the answer to bring Rufus back.

Lucy had tried to help. She had tried to muster the strength to stand up from where she was coiled on the edge of the couch, leaning against the armrest. But she couldn’t do it. It felt as if her brain and body and spirit had been replaced with sludge, and so she hung back, giving her future-self the space she needed to comfort her friend.

Instead, she took ownership of the couch, lying on her back, flimsy blanket pulled up to her nose, staring at the metal beams that made up the bunker’s roof. Her eyes trailed the rafters as her thoughts kept vacillating between running so fast that she kept losing the trail, and disappearing completely, leaving her with nothing but the fridge for company. It was deafening, and she choked on the sound.

Turning onto her side, she curled her hands into fists, cold fingertips tucked into warmer palms, and brought her knees up as far as she could on the small couch. The leather shifted with her, and the sensation of the tough fabric rubbing up against her skin reverberated in her ears, crawling down her spine until she had to sit up.

She huffed, slipping her socked feet onto the concrete floor. The cold ground reached its tendrils through her socks, but the fabric was thick and the soles of Lucy’s feet stayed cozy. It was a small mercy but she so very grateful.

Her body was on autopilot, not actually making any conscious decisions about where she was going, even though there was never any doubt. When she reached the door, she didn’t knock. Hand covered with the excess fabric of the pilfered shirt she had co-opted into her pajamas, she opened the door and stole into the room.

The figure on the bed appeared to be asleep, but Lucy knew better. Could tell by the tense line of his spine, the way he was unnaturally still. He lay with his back to the door, turned to his side with his injured arm draped carefully on top of his blanket. She watched him for a moment, the controlled movement of his torso as he breathed in the twilight air, before padding around the bed and crawling into the space between his imposing form and the wall. It was a tight fit, but as she settled into the gap with her head on his pillow, his scent and heat enveloping her, Lucy felt her limbs defrost.

A couple of heartbeats later, he lifted his wounded arm, traced his fingers across her face in the darkness and then carded his hand through her hair. She felt his muscles relax as his fingers slipped down to the strands that fell past her shoulders. She let her own body loosen until she was wrapped in Flynn’s embrace, cheek pressed tight against his chest, the _thump, thump, thump_ a lullaby to her own heart.

It was in the comfort of his arms that she finally let go.

Her pain was ugly and explosive, tears a never-ending stream flooding his t-shirt. Her sister, her mother, Rufus. Their faces cycled through her mind as her chest constricted.

Flynn held her tight to him, nuzzling her hair as he hummed gently into her ear. The melody soothed her open wound, until the river turned to a trickle.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped into his wet shirt, unmoving from her secure position in his arms.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” his voice was gentle, the words rumbling his chest, caressing her cheek.

“No, I do,” she shuffled closer still, until not even a single air molecule could fit between them. “She was a terrible person. She did terrible things and she made me -,” Lucy gasped, forcing away more tears, “she made me do terrible things. But she was my mother, and I loved her so much.”

He slipped his good arm under her, encircling her back until she was well and truly in a Garcia-shaped cocoon.

“All I can think about,” she continued, with a stuttering breath, “was how she used to sing me to sleep after a nightmare. How she would kiss my cuts before smoothing on a bandaid. She said her kisses had magical healing powers because she loved me so much. She was always pushing me to do better and, sure it was overbearing and sometimes I hated her for it, but she wanted to see me succeed and I just,” she sighed, swallowing back another outburst of tears. “When I came back from the Hindenburg and saw her alive and healthy, I thought we’d gotten a second chance. But it wasn’t a second chance. Not at all.”

“She loved you, Lucy,” he whispered into her hair, rubbing his hand against her back. “She wasn’t perfect, and she made some terrible choices, but she loved you in her own way. She may have told a ridiculous amount of lies, but she did protect you from Rittenhouse for as long as she could.”

Lucy snorted, the sound like a gunshot in the room. “Do you know what her dying wish was?” She lifted her head from it’s spot over his heart to look him in the eye. It was dark and his face was almost completely obscured in shadow, but her eyes had adapted to the night and she could just make out his features. His deep eyes and pointed cheekbones. “If she could have done it all again, she would have told me about Rittenhouse earlier. Indoctrinated me.” Her laugh was dark and bitter.

“I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”

Her heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice, and she reached for him, cupping his face with her left hand. His stubble scratched at her palm, and she rubbed at the coarse hairs as she caressed his cheek with her thumb.

Neither one spoke, the room filled with nothing but their breaths and a certain kind of tension they were both doing their best to ignore. Lucy trailed her hand down his face, neck, shoulders, to rest on his chest. His good arm tightened across her back as she lay her head back down above his heart.

“We may not get our families back,” Flynn whispered into the night, “but I promise you, we’ll save Rufus,”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she mumbled, fingers playing with the damp cotton covering his skin.”

“I don’t. You’ll see, we’ll be back to dealing with his terrible jokes in no time.” He felt her smile against him.

“If they’re so terrible, why do I always see you trying not to laugh?”

“Just because they’re terrible, doesn’t mean they’re not a little funny,” he relented and Lucy gave a soft breath of laughter.

Their bodies settled into each other as sleep engulfed them.


End file.
